


Mistress Whitaker

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adultery, Affairs, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boss/Employee Relationship, Cheating, Master & Servant, Master/Servant, Multi, Multiple Affairs, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn, Porn With Plot, Reverse Harem, Sex, Shower Sex, affair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25767061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A woman has an affair with her servants while her husband remains oblivious. What can I say?I don't want to clickbait, so, while I do plan to add more to the story with more kinks, I won't add tags until they're relevant.
Kudos: 5





	Mistress Whitaker

Beck’s eyes glanced back and forth off the streets and to his surroundings, watching as buildings and highways turned into trees lining the road and stretching on much farther than he could see. His gloved hands gripped the handles of his motorcycle, speeding up as the traffic turned nonexistent. He was sure that, if he were to turn his engine off, there would be no sound surrounding him except for that of the bird he watched fly overhead.

The road stayed smoothed and paved as it wound up the slow incline of the mountain, even the surrounding grass well-maintained so far off from society; though he shouldn’t be all that surprised, considering his destination. When Beck came upon a wrought iron gate attached to a fence that easily spanned more than five miles in each direction, he knew he was close

A well-dressed elderly man stepped out of a booth, and Beck slowed to a stop to allow the man to approach.

“Identification, please,” he said, holding out his white-gloved hand while his expression remained neutral.

Beck reached inside of his leather jacket, retrieving his wallet from his pocket. Pulling out his license, he handed it over to the man before taking off his helmet so that he could be identified. Though he could have guessed and had been told that there would be security measures, he still found it off-putting to be assessed like this, although it was much less invasive than the interview that he had to go through to get this job.

“Very good, Mister Deninsworth. The Whitaker Manor has been expecting you. Proceed.”

The man retreats into his booth, opening the gates. Beck puts back on his helmet and stores away his wallet and license before kicking off on his motorcycle again. The mansion sat in the middle of the property, and trees obscured it until Beck was facing it head-on. It was symmetrical, made of polished granite with white marble and wood of the same color acting as accents, and held hints of both Victorian and Mediterranean architecture. To be honest, with the two CEOs of international enterprises married and under one roof, he expected a much more modern-type house. Perhaps it was a family home passed down through generations.

There were several cars, varying in style and model, parked in a semi-circular driveway, and that was where Beck stopped his motorcycle and got off. Leaving his helmet behind, he detached the two suitcases that contained everything he had to his name from either side of his bike before ascending the steps. A woman was standing in front of the large doors, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Deninsworth, I presume? I was notified of your arrival. Come along; our mistress is waiting.”

She opened one of the doors from him, and he ducked inside, trying to note gape at the size of just the foyer of the mansion. A massive, golden chandelier hung from the ceiling two stories up, illuminating the dark marble staircase draped in light carpet. On either side were large archways leading into different rooms, each with expensive furniture and decorating, as far as Beck could tell.

A man in a grey suit came into the foyer, carrying carefully folded laundry, and he went up the main stairs without paying Beck and the woman any mind. Upstairs, Beck could hear a door open and close, and, a few moments later, who he presumed to be another servant walked slightly behind a woman who he recognized instantly. Even if she wasn’t his new employer, he would have known who she was. Just last week he had watched her on the television airing of a charity gala that she and her husband hosted.

“Mistress Whitaker, may I present to you Mister Beckham Deninsworth of Halifax,” the woman spoke clearly, standing stiff as a board.

Liliane Whitaker, dressed in a dark-green long-shirt and black leggings and black fabric heeled-boots, kept a measured expression as she went down the stairs. Her eyes were a much darker shade of blue than how she looked in magazines and tabloids, as was her brown hair, cut even and curling in slightly around her shoulders. Even her skin seemed tanner up close, in person, rather than the pasty tone captured on camera.

“Beckham, it is a pleasure to welcome you to our estate,” she said, smiling softly as she held her hand out.

Taking one of his gloves off, Beck shook her hand, not being able to help but notice as smooth her skin was.

“The pleasure, and gratitude, for that matter, are all mine.”

“Cecelia, would you please take Mister Deninsworth’s luggage to his room?” Liliane requested.

The woman who had greeted him at the door moved from behind him, swiftly taking his suitcases out of his hands, and steadily walked up the stairs and turned a corner on the left.

“I’m sure that the other servants will be grateful to have a chef in the house once again. Lunch has been served however, so your services will not be needed until tonight. Is that enough time for you to become acquainted with a kitchen and its ingredients?” she continued.

“Um, yes...ma’am.”

Beck wasn’t used to having to refer to or speak directly to people in a class above him. The seclusion, the cleanliness, the manners; it was all new to him, and “new” was almost always uncomfortable.

“Perfect. Then, we only have one issue left to address before I let you explore your new home.”

“Ma’am?”

Liliane stepped closer, her eyebrows furrowing slightly, and, he could’ve sworn, she briefly bit her lower lip.

“I do hope you do not think that this is proper attire for a servant of the Whitaker Manor,” she said, suddenly sounding cold, as she briefly grabbed at his leather jacket before quickly letting it go.

“I’m sorry. I just wear this when I ride my motorcycle.”

“Yes. About that, please do move that to the shed on the side of the house. It does not go with the cars well.”

She met his eyes once again, and he felt her icy glare chill him to the bone. Beck had to suppress the urge to squirm under her gaze, and he hoped she didn’t hear the hitch in his breathing.

“Of course. I’ll take care of that right away,” he replied after swallowing.

“Good. When you return, Delilah here will show you to your quarters,” Liliane said, gesturing to the young woman who had been standing behind her this entire time.

Beck watched as the mistress turned around and ascended the stairs again, turning to the right and disappearing. His eyes darted back and forth along with his racing thoughts, and he only snapped out of it when Delilah cleared her throat.

“Don’t worry. She’s like that with all newcomers, but she warms up to everyone eventually,” she reassured him.

“Oh, thank you. Um, when was the last time the manor saw a new servant? And is she still cold to them?”

“Let me think,” Delilah paused, putting a finger to her cheek, “unless I’m mistaken, Will was the one who came before you did. He’s the one who does all the laundry and helps with cleaning. I think it’s been about three weeks since he came to the manor.”

“Does she like him yet?”

“I think she’s starting to.”

* * *

Liliane stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading down her body and dampening her hair instantly. Closing her eyes, she basked in the feeling of the new rain showerhead. She enjoyed the nippy temperature maintained throughout the estate, the steaming water always pleasantly thawed her out, allowing her to relax.

Eventually, she poured vanilla-scented shampoo into her hands before massaging it into her hair, her fingers smoothing along her scalp. Letting her hair rinse, she watched as the shampoo swirled in the water before disappearing down the drain. Finally, she reached for her bar of soap and began running it along her shoulders. At the sound of a door opening, she looked over and saw Will standing in the doorway, his cheeks turning red as he slapped one hand over his eyes, almost dropping the stack of towels in his other hand.

“I am so sorry, Mistress; I thought you were still downstairs!”

“It’s alright, William. You can set the towels on the vanity to your left.”

“Right! Sorry!”

Liliane stayed still, watching him as he blindly fumbled and tried to find the counter without uncovering his eyes. From the moment that he entered her mansion, she knew he was the type to be empathetic, to the point that he was easily embarrassed. At first, she almost found it annoying how he fumbled over his words and couldn’t look at her for long. However, as time went on and they adapted to the presence of each other, she grew fond of him.

“William.”

“Mistress?” he called out, his back to her as he finally placed down the towels.

“There’s an area on my back that I just can’t seem to reach today. Can you...can you help me?”

Through his reflection in the mirror, she watched his eyes fly open as his cheeks further darked. His gaze flitted to her own reflection, and his expression was practically screaming his confusion and embarrassment. But, there was something else there, too, and Liliane latched onto that.

“Please? You’re allowed to say no if it’s too awkward for you.”

“No, I-I...not at all. I’ll always help you.”

He tentatively turned around and stepped closer. She still didn’t move, keeping her eyes on him the entire time. He kept his own locked on the ceiling, so he gasped and jumped back slightly when he felt her open palm press against his abdomen.

“Do you always get into a shower with your clothes on, William? I wouldn’t want such a mess in my home as a servant drenched.”

“O-Oh...okay.”

Will, almost in a daze, took off his clothes, feeling cold and exposed, before stepping into the shower behind Liliane. She finally moved, turning her head to look forward, no longer being able to see Will. She puts the bar of soap in his hand, and he takes a shallow breath before his eyes slowly fall down from the ceiling. He couldn’t help but to stare at her naked form, shifting his hips uncomfortably as he tried to suppress his erection. Swallowing hard, he presses the bar of soap between her shoulder-blades.

“Lower,” she said softly.

Trying to not tremble, he moved his hand lower, to the middle of her back.

“Lower.”

He moved down to her lower back. He bit his lip hard, trying to not make a noise despite the energy shooting up and down his entire body.

“Just a bit lower.”

Her voice was calm, as if she thought nothing of the situation. Though he couldn’t see her face, she kept a neutral expression.

His breathing heavier, he slid the bar of soap down her skin until it was resting on her ass. His eyes were wide and locked on his hand as he moved the bar across her. It felt like his member was physically throbbing, and it took everything he had to not visibly shake.

“That’s right,” she encouraged, closing her eyes once again.

Once enough suds were on her skin, Will slowly put the bar down, blinking rapidly and clenching his jaw as he put his hands on her bare ass, rubbing her cheeks in circles. Letting out a shaky breath, he relished in how soft she was.

Tilting her head up, she stepped backwards until she was pressed against him. She could feel him poking her lower back, and she almost shuddered.

“Keep going,” she commanded before turning her head to rest on his chest.

Feeling as if he was dreaming, Will reached around and began running his soapy hands along her hips, licking his lips briefly as he imagined grabbing them and never letting go. Growing bolder, he moved up, massaging her stomach, and then moving up again to her chest. Will then watched his hands as they cupped Liliane’s wet breasts, and he sighed in pleasure at not being able to completely hold them.

He rubbed them, his fingers running over her erect nipples, and he wished he could suck on them and bite them as if his life depended on it. Oh, how he could stay just like this forever and it would be heavenly.

“Alright, you’re out of soap. I’m clean now,” Liliane said, straightening up and stepping forward again so that she was under the water again.

Will almost whimpered, wanting nothing more than to pull her back into her arms. However, that desire died quickly when he watched as she braced her hands against the tile of the shower wall and arched her back, bringing her ass up slightly.

“Now make me dirty,” she finished, almost breathlessly.

Will’s mind briefly went blank before his eyes darted back to the bar of soap. Grabbing it again, he runs two of his fingers along it before taking his hand to her ass. Spreading her legs, she gave him access to her asshole. He stuck one, then two fingers inside, his stomach coiling inside as he felt her. He massaged her insides with soap for a few moments before removing his fingers. Coating his dick in soap as well, he placed the bar back down before grabbing Liliane’s hips, digging his fingers into her skin. He lined himself up, but stopped.

“Are you sure?”

Her response is pushing herself backwards, sliding her asshole onto his dick, and they both let out a moan. Will couldn’t believe how it felt, to be inside of his mistress. Her asshole squeezed his dick so tightly that it was almost painful. But it wasn’t. God, this was the best feeling in the world.

He moved further inside until she was up against his hips. He grinded inside of her briefly before retracting. However, he slid back in quickly, his balls slapping up against her asscheeks. The action filled him with electricity, and he repeated it, again, and again. He grit his teeth as he forced his dick through her tight hole as it tugged at his erection. His hands left her hips and cupped her breasts once again. At the same time, he ducked his head slightly and began slowly licking water droplets off of her shoulders before kissing her neck, which turned to feverishly sucking on her skin.

It was intoxicating, how she would roll her hips when he was deep inside of her, and how her own hands reached up behind her to run through his hair, near pulling on it. He bucked his hips again and again, slamming into her harder and harder with each thrust. Once he turned his head and allowed her to suck on his neck, surly intent on leaving dark hickeys on him, he quickened his pace, his mouth free to pant now.

His body tensed up, and he wanted release more than air. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on nothing but the feeling of Liliane’s lips on his neck and her asshole around his dick. Their toes curled, and he moved one hand back down to run circles along her clit. She moaned into him, and she became rigid under his touch.

“Close,” was all he could breathe as he felt as if he were about to burst and bubble over.

Her fingers dug into his head, signaling to him that she was as well. It only took a few more thrusts and rolling of their hips together to send him over the edge, but he did not stop rubbing her clit until his fingers became slick.

They both sighed in relief, and she relaxed into him. They stayed there for a moment, breathing heavily, before he stepped back, slowly removing himself from her. She turned around and closed the distance between them once again. Pressing her breasts against his chest, she wraps her arms around his neck. Leaning up, she waits until Will closes his eyes before she kisses him tenderly.


End file.
